


what lovers do

by LNC



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Adrinetteapril2019, F/M, LadyNoir - Freeform, Slow Burn, adrienette - Freeform, loosely connected drabbles, post reveal pre relationship, puh-lease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-01-04 09:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 10,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18340499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LNC/pseuds/LNC
Summary: No really, they're just friends.





	1. Just Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Yo. These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Just Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

“This feels a lot like a date.”

Adrien nearly spit his wine back into his glass.  Marinette blinked innocently as he scowled at her, red cheeked, over the table.

The candlelit, rose petaled, cream cloth covered table.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He had to lean forward so his words weren’t drowned out by the string quartet that hovered nearby.  Marinette sighed.

“I thought we already discussed this, _Chaton_.”

Adrien flinched.  It was fast, it was slight, but she caught it none the same.

He recovered quickly.

“Again,” He said, charming grin in place as he reached for the check their waiter delivered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Marinette’s hand shot out and covered his own with a scowl.

“I’m sure.”

Adrien’s hand was warm beneath hers.  His eyes were wide and guileless.

“Have I ever lied to you, bugaboo?”

Marinette’s hand tightened over the check. “Yes.”

Adrien’s grin fell with a sigh as she slipped the bill from his grip.  “Why do you have to fight me on this?”

“I think the real question is,” She said, slipping her card beside his in the billfold and handing it back to their waiter. “Why do _you_ want to pay for everything?”

“Because you’re my…” He hesitated and in that hesitation she heard everything.

“Friend, Adrien.  I’m your _friend_.”

She’s not sure who she hurt worse with those words.  Her partner or herself.

But that was the honest truth of them–

After all the misunderstandings and heartbreak, after the roller coaster that was their formative years, now that everything was out and bright in the open, what the two of them needed more than anything was peace.

For better or worse, sickness and health, she knew it down to her bones:

Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste

Ladybug and Chat Noir

were just _friends_.


	2. Seat Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Seat Buddies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

Adrien didn’t look up from his empty glass and shrugged.  

“You might as well.  No one else is.”

Marinette sighed and slid into the barstool beside him.  She asked the bartender for a shot of tequila before slumping onto the sticky counter.

It was gross.  It didn’t matter.

No one was coming to see her anyway.

“Some night, huh?” She muttered, throwing back her shot with a grimace.

Salt. She should have grabbed salt.

Adrien passed her the icy remnants of his drink.  She hummed gratefully around the straw.

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Adrien said, as he gestured for another glass of what she now knew to be vodka and soda water.  “Being stood up or watching you get stood up.”

“Neither have been much fun for me,” She muttered.

This was the last time she let Mylene set her up with one of her eco-warrior friends.

God, she’d even _shaved_ for tonight too.

“What a waste of body glitter.”

Adrien cheered her.

“So what do you think it was?” She asked, waving a straw in his direction.  “Do you think they like, walked in, saw us, and left?”

Marinette wasn’t sure what she _expected_ to happen when she asked him that.  But Adrien’s warm, roving eyes as they trailed from the coiffe of her hair to the crest of her thighs to the tips of her heels certainly wasn’t it.

Or maybe it was.

It was hard to tell with them at this point.

Either way it didn’t take a visual rundown to know her partner looked sinfully perfect as always.

She did it anyways, for the tequila’s sake.

He caught her eye on the way back up and she gave a guilty smile.

“Probably not.”

“His loss,” He said, a little too honest.

“ _Her_ loss,” She said right back, bumping his shoulder to break the tension.

After all, there were worse ways to spend an evening.


	3. Embarrassing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Embarrassing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

“How much do you love me?”

Adrien grinned into the phone.  “Is this a trick question, my lady?”

“I’m serious,” Marinette huffed, her voice more panicked than irritated.  “It’s kind of a code red situation and I’m stuck at this photoshoot.”

“A code red…? Oh.” He paused.  “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.” He could hear the grimace in her voice.

“Uh, don’t any of the other models have…” He trailed off, knowing the answer to that question even as he asked it.  She wouldn’t be calling him otherwise.

He signaled to Plagg that they would be leaving and grabbed his shoes.

Marinette sighed. “If they do they’re not sharing.”

She sounded more than a little stressed.  Adrien wondered if there was more to the situation than she was saying.

“Don’t worry, LB.  This cat’s got your back. It’s the shoot by the Trocadero yeah?”

“Ah, yeaaaah,” She said.  “Um, about that. I kind of need a little more than just tampons.”

“Oh?”

“I _may_ have bledthroughmyunderwear.”

“I’m sorry?” He said. “Can you run that by me again?”

“ _Argh_ ,” She cried and Adrien could almost see her tugging frantically at her hair.  “I. Bled. Through. My. Underwear.”

“Oh.”

“Please stop saying that!” She whined.  “I had to swallow all of my pride just to call you.  And even _then_ it’s only because Tikki refused to fly home and grab me an extra pair.”

“That- that would be something to see.”

He could see it all too well- her indignant kwami, wearing a red and black set of panties like a cape, flying through Paris.  He wanted to laugh but all that came out was a whimper.

 _Ladybug’s_ underwear.  They were talking about Ladybug’s _underwear_.

It was beyond pathetic, he knew, the way his heart sped up.  Sad and mortifying and so, so, _so_ desperate.

“ _Chaaat_ ,” She said, frantic

That snapped him out of it.  Or at least brought him back to their conversation.

“N-no worries, buginette.” Adrien nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “I’ve got you covered.”

Literally, it would seem.

Marinette was too grateful and mortified to appreciate the joke.  She sang his effusive praises even as she rushed him off the phone, only remembering to add, _top shelf of the dresser, bottom drawer of the bathroom cabinet_ before hanging up.

Adrien’s arm fell slack to his side, unable or unwilling to dissect everything that just happened.  He glanced towards his kwami.

Plagg’s smile was downright gleeful as he took in Adrien’s red, red face.

“So… I hear we’re going on a panty raid.”


	4. Hide Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Four: Hide Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

Marinette wasn’t sure what was more troubling– the seventy-seven unread messages in her inbox or the shame-faced rose-toting blonde shifting in her doorway.

It wasn’t even 8 am and she already regretted getting out of bed.

“Do I want to know?” She asked as Adrien scurried inside.

“I’m so, so sorry,” He said, shoving the roses into her un-waiting hands.  “I’m so, so, _so_ sorry.”

Accepting the roses as her apparent due, she groggily made her way to the kitchen to find them a proper vase.

Although, if Adrien’s guilty expression was anything to go by, said vase may just be the trash.

“What did you do?”

“ _Please_ don’t be mad.”

“You know that’s not how this works,” She sighed, leaning against the counter.  “And the faster you tell me the faster I can kill you.”

“Or not,” Tikki said, yawning, as she made her way towards the jar of cookies on the counter.  Adrien appreciated the lackluster support even if she just as quickly abandoned him by phasing into the jar.

He was on his own.

“So you know I’m, like, famous right?”

Marinette stared.

“Right.” He laughed, tapping his fingers against the counter.  “ _Well_ , there’s a new Gabriel ad coming out… which, I guess you also knew... but my fans didn’t and now they’re starting to get a little…” He made a waving motion with his hand.  “ _Anyways_ , um, there’s been a lot more attention on me and… well… when you called me last week…”

He trailed off, watching as Marinette put the pieces together.

“They didn’t.” She said, face paling.  “ _Please_ tell me they didn’t.”

Tikki poked her head out of the jar.

“Dirdn’t whrt?” She said, crumbs flying.  

Adrien held out his hands, placating. “I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

“Adrien,” She said, eyes wide.  “They only _just_ stopped calling me pajama girl.  Please don’t tell me they’re calling me _underwear_ girl now.”

“Not exactly,” He grimaced, reluctantly handing over his phone.  “Not– not _underwear_.”

Marinette nearly scratched him as she snatched the phone out of his hands.

There, in bold, black, pixels–  a girlhood nightmare turned reality:

**Is Agreste Single?  Let’s Put a Period On That Question.**

And, in all its stalk-arazzi glory, an image of a flushed Adrien rushing out of her apartment complex, box of tampons and bunched up fabric clutched to his chest.

This was so much worse than pajamas.

Adrien flinched as she let out a slow, high-pitched whine.

Curious, Tikki drew closer to look at the phone.  

He startled when her big, blue eyes snapped back to his.

“Run.”


	5. Clumsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Five: Clumsy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

Marinette was three scoops deep into a pint of mint ice cream when Chat Noir stumbled through her balcony doors.

“You should really lock those,” He muttered, ignoring her indignant yelp and falling face first into her couch cushions.  A half-hearted _claws in_ and Plagg was spiraling into her lap.

“ _Ugh_ ,” He said, disgusted.  Tiny green eyes met hers with a tiny kitty scowl.  “He’s _your_ problem now.”

“Um,” Marinette said, still reeling from her partner’s entrance.  Plagg ignored her and zipped off to find Tikki.

With no alternative she turned her attention to the despondent blonde on her couch.

“Adrien.”

A weak, muted whine was her only response.

Rolling her eyes, she poked his side, just under his arm where she knew he was sensitive. He swatted her away with a groan.

“Judging from your entrance I’m assuming the date didn’t go well?”

Adrien shook his head before turning his face away from her couch cushions to meet her gaze.

Marinette’s heart sank a little at the confusion reflecting back at her.

“Can I ask you a question?” He said, sounding small and a little bit lost.

She _hated_ whoever made him feel like that.

Tamping down questions of her own Marinette scooted closer and took his hand, entwining their fingers.

“Always.”

“Am… am I a bad kisser?”

“ _What?_ ” She squealed, dropping his hand and scrambling away from his side.  “W-why would you even _ask_ me that?”

Adrien sat up, ears red.

“Who _else_ am I going to ask?” He said, hotly.  “It’s not like I can call up any of my exes and say, _Hey, it’s Adrien. Did you enjoy swapping spit with me?_ ”

“But it’s okay to ask _me_?”

She was not having this conversation.  This was an ice cream induced nightmare.  It had to be.

Because Marinette was absolutely certain her ridiculously attractive, silly, _way too attainable_ partner did not just tumble into her evening to ask her if… if…

Oh, to be a tea kettle.

She could just _scream_.

Adrien’s eyes dropped from hers. “You’re not an ex.”

No, she was an almost.

And honestly, she wasn’t sure which was worse.

But dammit all if she would leave _that_ expression, humiliated and frustrated and a little sad, on her best friend’s face.

After all, she _had_ kissed him.

Several times.

Even if it was under the influence of Hawkmoth or Alya or Jose Cuervo.

Marinette took a deep, fortifying breath and reclaimed her seat beside him.

“Kitty,” She murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist.  He resisted at first before melting into her, resting his head on her shoulder.  “Where is this coming from?”

“It’s just…” His voice dropped.  “She said I kissed her like an obligation.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw and too much.

Too, too much.

“No, minou,” She said, finally, softly.  “You’re not a bad kisser.”


	6. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Six: Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

**_11 months earlier..._ **

Closets were meant for coats and secret make out sessions–

not for having one’s heart broken.

At least, that was Marinette’s opinion.

Apparently Alya was of a different mind.  That, or she was severely misguided in her attempts at meddling in Marinette’s love life.

She leaned back against the closet door and sighed.

“I’m really sorry about this.” She said.  “I haven’t gotten around to telling her about… well, yeah.”

She glanced towards her unwilling closet partner.  It was difficult to make out his expression in the dark which, when she thought about it, was probably for the best.

“It’s fine,” Adrien said.

The crack in his voice told her otherwise.

God, if she knew telling a boy you liked him would make everything unbearably awkward she would have kept her mouth shut.

As it was, she was in the precarious position of trying to keep a friend and wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

Or drink.  She’s fairly certain Kim spiked the lemonade.

Some borrowed courage would have been nice about now.

“No, Adrien.  It’s not.  I don’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

She heard him shuffling in the dark as he crawled closer to her.  His shoulder, or what she assumed was his shoulder, bumped hers.

“You don’t.”

Marinette hated the way her body tingled where it lined up with his.  It was painful and wonderful and stupid how much she cared about the boy beside her.

“I’m sorry I messed us up,” She said.

He started.  “You didn’t mess anything up!”

She laughed.  “Kind of feels like it.”

Adrien shifted beside her and his fingers cautiously found her shoulders, elbows, wrists, then hands.  Marinette didn’t often feel small, but there was something about the way his hands engulfed hers that left her feeling… incredibly delicate.

“Marinette,” He said, his voice soft and sad and affectionate all at once.  “You are only ever wonderful.”

“You really shouldn’t say things like that,” She said, hoping he couldn’t hear the the longing in her voice.  Boys were stupid.  So, so stupid.

“I wish there was more I _could_ say.”

And dammit all if he didn’t sound like he meant it.

Marinette squeezed his hands.

“She’s lucky.  Whoever she is.”

Adrien breathed a laugh and she felt more than saw him shake his head.

“She’s _made_ of luck,” He sighed, a little wistfully and she couldn’t say she didn’t hate him for it just a bit.  “But if she wasn’t… if there wasn’t… I need you to know, Marinette.  It would be you.”

And oh, if that didn’t break her heart.

Marinette laughed because, really, the only alternative was to cry.

“You know,” She sniffed.  “You’re really bad at this.”

“I’m sorry,” He murmured and the worst thing about it

was believing him.


	7. Sweet Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Seven: Sweet Tooth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

Collette’s hands curled against his chest between the open halves of his shirt, fingernails lightly scraping down.  His hands spanned her bare waist, pulling her flush with him, as he leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek.

“Yes!  Passion!  You _want_ him darling.  He is a diamond!  He is fine linen! He is–”

“That plate of cookies on the Kraft service table,” She murmured, dark eyes more mischievous than wanting.

Adrien broke and Louis admonished them both before calling for a touch up on Collette’s lipstick.

Lingerie shoots were the _worst_ but it was models like her that made them bearable.  Adrien had lost count of the amount of roaming hands and pushy talent who tried to coax him away from the cameras.

Collette was wonderfully professional.

She kept things light, laughed when things got awkward, and kept her hands above the belt.

It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful.

A stupid thought really– she was a model. _Of course_ she was beautiful.  With bright red hair, a smattering of freckles, and full, pouty lips she was a photographer’s _dream_.

And she was flirting with him.

At least, Adrien _thought_ she was flirting with him.  It was hard to tell when it came to Collette.  She had a way about her, more tart than sweet, that made it difficult to distinguish when she was joking and when she was… well, not.

Annoying really when Adrien couldn’t say that he wasn’t _not_ flirting back.

Nothing inappropriate just a sly comment here, a well-placed pun there, and the oh-so-casual inquiry about her plans for the rest of the day.  She didn’t seem to be taking him seriously and he wasn’t sure whether to be frustrated or relieved.

It wasn’t until wrap up that he realized why.

“Sooo,” She said, leaning against the service table, cookie finally in hand. “You must be fairly _intimate_ with this kind of thing by now, huh?”

Adrien could honestly say he wasn’t following her.

She bit her lip, smiling.

“The underwear.  It seems a little _too_ on brand for you.”

It clicked.  He groaned.

“Not you too.  I was helping out a friend!”

A miracle that he could still call her that after the _weeks_ of speculative tabloid articles. Marinette really was going to kill him dead one of these days.  He was sure of it.

“She must be a very _good_ friend.”

Adrien tried not to blush. He really did.

“Ah,” Collette said, grinning. “I _see_.  And does she know?  Is she aware that she’s your… Kraft service cookie?”

She waved the last bite of said cookie in the air before popping it into her mouth, eyes laughing.

Adrien scowled, face hot.  “I regret almost asking you out to coffee.”

Collette’s laugh, loud and free, echoed throughout the studio.

“As fun as that would have been,” She said. “I think your sweet tooth would eventually get the best of you.”

“Probably,” He sighed.  “I’m pretty hopeless.”

Collette reached forward and squeezed his hand.

“Not really, Agreste.  That’s just love.”


	8. A Favor Only You Can Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Eight: A favor only you can do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

“This seems… casual.”

Marinette laughed, bumping his shoulder. 

“I have it on good authority that today’s event was all Emily’s doing.  What with fashion week wrapping up Nathalie had too much on her plate to organize on her own.”

That much was obvious.

Gabriel always threw an event for its staff as a celebration and unofficial apology for the madness leading up to and during Paris’ fashion week.  Marinette and her fellow interns were particular victims of said madness as everyone’s temper eventually trickled down to them. Usually these events were held in some hotel ballroom or other with a black tie dress code and horderves too tiny to count as a meal.

It seemed their intern coordinator had some particular thoughts on _that_.

So this year, instead of a ballroom they were in a garden, instead of black tie, they were business casual, and instead of crudites there were lawn games.

Well, there were _still_ crudites.  They were French, after all.

“So… what are we playing here?”

Adrien studied the field before him.  There were two elevated ramps each with a hole in the center set several meters apart.  Green and red bean bags rested beside each ramp

Marinette pointed to the pair next to them.

“I think we’re supposed to throw the bags in the hole.  Or at least land them on the board.”

Adrien smiled.  “That sounds easy enough.”

It was not easy.

The first round he overshot. A lot.

He could tell Marinette was torn between laughing at him and being annoyed as she chased down the wayward bags.

She was, (un)fortunately, no better.

By the time they reached their fourth round Adrien had given up on the game entirely and was catching every bag Marinette threw towards him and dropping them directly into the hole.

“Another excellent shot, buginette!”

“ _Stoooop_ ,” She whined, scrunching up her nose as she tossed another bag.  “I want to do this myself.”

“You are,” He said, catching it as it veered off to his left before dropping it into its rightful place. “And as always I’m here to assist.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. 

“Fine,” She said, dropping her remaining bag to the ground.  “I give up. You win.”

“Actually, my lady,” Adrien said, bounding back to her side with a grin.  “ _You_ won.”

“You’re ridiculous,” She said. “And anyways, if we’re going by _your_ rules then I believe we both won.”

“Of course we did.  We’re partners. What’s mine is yours and all that.”

Marinette laughed. “Oh is _that_ what that means.”

Adrien’s smile was fond, his voice soft, his reply too sincere to do anything but send her stumbling.

“Yes.” He said. “Always, yes.”


	9. Birthday Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Nine: Birthday Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

**_Eleven months and fifteen minutes earlier…_ **

“Spin the bottle, Alya? _Really?_ ”

Marinette’s horror-stricken face was all Adrien needed to know she had yet to tell her best friend about her ill-fated confession.  Unfortunate, really, as it was quickly becoming obvious just how much time Alya spent orchestrating the girl’s love life.

Which, apparently, was him.

It was surprising how surprising it _wasn’t_. 

The early stuttering and blushing and nerves.  The later earnestness and blushing and care. Alya and Nino’s frequent disappearances.  The kind, always, _always_ kind rejections of everyone from Nathaniel to Luka.

He felt blind from all of the signs he’d missed.  And kept missing still as he struggled to keep this wonderful, beautiful, so, so dear friend in his life.

Breaking someone’s heart was hard.  Making sure they stuck around after was even harder.

Alya’s grin was unsympathetic in its glee.

“My birthday. My rules. _Sit_.”

Their friends and classmates gathered as instructed.  The spinners spinned and the kissers kissed.

It was inevitable, really, what happened next.

Marinette’s mortified squeak was drowned out by the others’ wolf whistles. Adrien blinked down at the empty Orangina bottle. 

He was immediately aware of his breath and his palms and his sweat.  Because even in his embarrassment and her distress he was still a teenage boy and she was… she was…

Well, she was _Marinette_.

Adrien leaned forward on his knees and met her halfway across the circle.

Her eyes were wide and blue and scared.  Her freckles stood out like constellations against her blush. And he found that as horrified as he was for _her_ all he wanted to do was reach out and kiss her pain away.

Marinette would be so _easy_ to love.  She _was_ so easy to love.

_And yet._

Her lips were soft and tasted like peppermint. His skin tingled where it brushed against her own.  The kiss lasted _one, two, three_ seconds before she scrambled back, red as a ladybug.

“ _Ow owwwww!_ ” Kim hollered.  Marinette buried her face in her hands.

What happened next was the stuff of teenage nightmares.

Per the ancient and indelible rules of Spin the Bottle Adrien took up his turn with confusion and relief– only to watch his bad luck at work as the traitorous bottle circled round and round again to land back on... her.

Alya’s grin was downright _manic_.

“Double spin.  You know what that means!” She singsonged. 

She practically had to hoist a protesting Marinette to her feet and towards the nearby closet.  Adrien felt several hands on his back as more cheers and whistles echoed throughout the room celebrating their fate.

“Seven minutes!” Alya said, damn near _giddy_ as she slammed the door shut, abandoning them to the darkness and awkward and truth.


	10. Puns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Ten: Puns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

Some days were Bad.

Marinette knew it better than most.

Rampaging akumas, rampaging professors, and rampaging hormones had nothing on Gabriel Agreste.  And he had no dog he loved to kick more than his own son.

A quiet patrol was her first clue.

No laughing, no flirting, no dangerously over the rails handstands.  No shy, probing questions about the future. No sullen, childish pouting about the intern who’d asked her out.

Only quick nods, distracted _can do, my lady_ s and a hesitant, monotone goodbye as they split for the evening.

She was having none of it.

Her chaton may have been fast on all fours but he had nothing on her yoyo.  A few questionably dangerous shortcuts through alleyways and one busy arrondissement saw her tumbling onto his balcony a full four minutes before him.

It was cute, his terrified yowl, when he entered his back door to find her there.

“ _Marinette?_ ”

She smiled up at him cross-legged on the couch.

Adrien dropped his transformation, his strength wilting away with his costume.

“Come here, _minou_.”

He didn’t hesitate.  Crawling forward into her open arms he buried his face in her stomach, nearly lying on top of her in his need for reassurance and hugs.  His arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed her tight.

“How’d you know?” He murmured.

Marinette gave into the moment and ran her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly.

“You’re my _purr-son_ , Adrien.  Of course I knew.”

Adrien froze, his body taut and stiff, and she wondered if she made the joke too soon.  It was only a moment though before he melted further into her arms.

“You’re my person, too.”


	11. Facetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Eleven: Facetime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

**_Ten months and two weeks earlier…_ **

Something was wrong with Ladybug.

Adrien couldn’t put his finger – or his claws – on the issue.  When he asked she told him it was nothing. If he pressed he knew she would run.

He never felt more helpless than when faced with the quiet, semi-sadness that followed her.

Slow to smile, quick to laugh. Everything was at once words too sharp, eyes too dull, spirit just… dimmed.

Grieving.

Which is why he was just as surprised as he wasn’t to spot her stumbling over rooftops, tipsy, twirly, tequila drunk.  It was their night off but nothing would stop him once he saw her awkwardly swing past his balcony.

He caught up with her three rooftops down, he _caught_ up with her one rooftop after when she nearly tumbled into the street below, and as they both fell to an awkward heap the last rooftop over, Adrien vowed to catch up with her once and for all.

“My lady,” He murmured and in the end that’s all it took.

Ladybug cried, quiet and slow.  Each tear trailing down her face like a well-worn path– it made his chest ache knowing that’s exactly what it was.

They didn’t speak as he held her.  She didn’t tell him what broke her.  But he rocked them, humming softly as the tears soaked, then settled, then dried.

“You don’t have to tell me,” He said, his face in her hair, her hands on his bell. “No matter what, bug.  I’m on your side.”

“Yeah?” She whispered, voice hoarse.

“Of course.” Adrien pulled back to smile.  “You’re my _purr-son_.”

Her glassy-eyed giggle was worth the pain in his leg as it fell asleep under their combined weight.  He watched, fond and fearful, as her hands fell from his bell to his hands wrapped around her waist. Instead of removing herself, Ladybug surprised him by bringing his right hand, his miraculous hand, to her lips.

“What would you wish for, Chat?”

The question was soft as her fingers entwined with his own. 

She was so close like this, with her head leaned back against his shoulder, her eyes focused not on his but somewhere just below his chin.  It was strange and terrible and wonderful all at once. To be able to be there for her, to be needed at all, even if he wanted whatever made her like this far and away.

His partner felt so… fragile. 

Adrien didn’t need to think to know his answer.

“Happy you.”

Ladybug’s smile was fond even as his answer gave away more of his heart than he knew she was ready for.  That didn’t stop her from leaning forward all the same, hesitating only a moment for him to turn his head, and brushing her lips against his– slow and soft and sweet to touch but sour to taste, the remnants of tequila on her lips.

It was her.  It was perfect.

She pulled back.

“Thank you, Chaton. I want you happy too.”


	12. "Adrien's Girlfriend"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Twelve: "Adrien's Girlfriend"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

“You’re pajama girl right?”

Marinette paused over her coffee cup to look at the young man staring down at her, recorder in hand.

It’s not the first time she’d been asked that question over the years, although that moniker had blessedly died down in frequency.  _Had_ being the operative word given Adrien’s latest run-in with the paparazzi.

She put on her best Ladybug Smile. “That’s what it says on my birth certificate.”

“Right. Marinette Dupain, yes?”

“Dupain– _Cheng_.”

“Of course.” The reporter smiled, thin lipped. “Can I have a moment of your time Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?”

“I was just leaving,” She said, gathering her notebook and taking one final sip of her latte.  Her sketchbook could wait– she’d get nothing done in _this_ cafe.

The reporter followed.

“I’m doing an article on Adrien Agreste and Gabriel’s newest line of lingerie.”

“Great.  What does that have to do with me?”

“Well, given the news–”

“ _Gossip._ ”

“–News surrounding his current relationship status _vis a vis_ you I wondered if you might provide a statement for us.”

Marinette stopped, whirling around to face him.  The reporter stopped just short of running into her.

“This article is about Adrien and Gabriel’s newest ad campaign yes?”

“Yes, miss.”

“And I’m assuming you’ve already interviewed _him_ on this topic.”

“I did.” There was an odd glint in his eye.  “But aren’t you curious about what he said?”

“No,” She said. “But I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.”

“I asked Mr. Agreste if you two were involved… which he says you are not.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yes. I know.”

“But when I asked him if he _wanted_ to be he told me ‘ _no comment’_.”

The reporter’s barely concealed smirk told her what he was looking for.  Too bad for him his so-called bombshell was less than news to her. Even her partner’s unwillingness to deny their hopelessness to the press was completely in line with what she expected.

She sighed. “And?”

His smile was just left of a scowl.  “ _And_ do you have any comments on your _friend’s_ evasiveness?”

Marinette schooled her features even if she couldn’t quite keep the glee from her voice.  She’d be damned if she gave this man anything.

“No comment.”


	13. Good Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Thirteen: Good Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

“I think I want to go to back to school.”

The thought had been lingering in the back of his mind for a while now but it wasn’t until he said the words aloud that he realized how true they were.

Adrien wanted to go back to school.  And he _didn’t_ want to study business.

Marinette looked up from her textbook, eyes wide.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” He said, heartbeat racing.  “Oh my god. _Yeah_.”

She leaned forward, her own homework forgotten.

“Do you know what you want to study or…?”

He laughed, shaking his head.  “Absolutely no idea. I liked science in lycee.  But really? I never thought much beyond…”

He gave a general wave to encompass the everything that was _beyond_.

Beyond his father.  Beyond _Gabriel_. Beyond Ladybug and Paris and Chat Noir– if he were being honest some part of him thought he’d never make it to the point where he’d _get_ to make a decision.  He knew well enough from Marinette that some days he hadn’t.

But here he was, two years out of lycee, still fighting Hawkmoth, still modeling, still waiting, waiting, waiting.

Adrien was getting tired of waiting.

Marinette’s smile was beyond anything when she launched herself over to his side of the couch and engulfed him in a hug.

“I’m _so_ proud of you!” She gushed, burying her face in his shoulder.  “And whatever you need whether it’s to research schools or programs or to beat some sense into your father or help with applications – I’ve _got_ you. _Oh!_  And I bet Alya would be able to help you with your essays and…”

Adrien’s heart flipped over itself as she babbled on about interviews and career fairs and school visits.  She was all excitement and energy and hope for _him_ and _his_ future and he couldn’t help but squeeze her a little tighter.  If he sneaked a kiss to her hair, well, Marinette didn’t seem to notice.

As tired as he was, there were some things, he knew, that were definitely worth the wait.


	14. The Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Fourteen: The Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

“I’m going to ask you something and it might make things weird but I’m going to need you to ignore that for me okay?”

Adrien blinked as Marinette stormed past him into his apartment.

“O...kay?” He said, catching Tikki’s tiny shrug as she slipped away to find Plagg.  He closed the door and joined his pacing partner in the living room.

He nearly felt his stomach drop out beneath him as he took in her face.

Eyes squinted, forehead wrinkled, nose scrunched and chin up– it was a look he’d seen countless times over the years.  A look that was always followed by Big Things.

Terrible, Wonderful, Scary, or Heartbreaking– that face was the harbinger of Big.

It was her Courage face.

Whether she was recklessly jumping into the mouth of a dinosaur or stutteringly telling him she loved him Adrien never knew exactly what would follow.  After all, very few things frightened his Lady.

“Do you still have that Valentine I wrote you?  From college?”

_Except him._

“I-I…”

Adrien’s face was going to explode with heat, he was sure of it.

Because how _did_ you tell the woman you’re in love with that _yes_ you absolutely still had the valentine from nearly a thousand years ago.  And that not only did you still _have_ it you took it with you when you moved and it was sitting in your bedroom, carefully pressed between the pages of a photo album she’d gifted him two months before.

Why the hell was she asking about it _now_?

She took his stunned gibbering as the admission it was.

“Can I have it?”

 _Absolutely not_.

The thought, visceral and covetous, thankfully didn’t make it past his lips.  He couldn’t say the same for the pained hiss as he took a stuttering breath.

“You– you’re taking it _back_?”

Marinette’s eyes widened as she flailed.  “ _No!_ Well, I mean– _yes_ , but no.  I’m not.”

Adrien took comfort in the familiar, awkward hand movements as she rushed to reassure him.  His lady wasn’t taking anything back.

“Then… why?”

Marinette’s face was nearly as red as his own.

“It’s a secret.” She muttered.  “I can’t say any more than that.”

He moved towards her until he was close enough to take her hand.  She let him, going further still and entwining their fingers together.  She would not, however, look at him.

“You’ll bring it back?”

“Of course,” She said, before scrunching up her face again and meeting his gaze. 

Big.

“It’s _yours_.”


	15. Love Rivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Fifteen: Love Rivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

Marinette was running late.

It wasn’t every day that she and Adrien’s schedules aligned like this, which made it all the more frustrating that her meeting with Emily ran long.  It seemed reading social cues was not one of her supervisor’s many strengths.

Particularly when it came to cues like _no, I don’t want to talk about Adrien Agreste_ and _yes, it_ is _interesting that Martin stopped hanging around my desk_ and _please, please,_ **_please_ ** _stop asking me about my relationship status._

She was _really_ getting tired of that question.

Nosy reporters, nosy supervisors, and nosy kwamis.  Probing texts from Alya, knowing looks from her parents, and on one _oh-so-strange_ occasion a redheaded model’s unsettling grin.

Which wasn’t even mentioning Adrien and all of their too-lingering glances, less-than-platonic touches, and _years_ worth of pining and misunderstandings and history that shone like a bright, flashing neon sign of _WHAT ARE WE?_ in the broadway farce that was their current relationship.

 _Friends_. She’d firmly remind herself after patrols where they spoke too softly, stayed out too late. _We said we’d work at being_ **_friends_**.

Because no matter where they stood Marinette knew with the certainty of having lost her love over and on again that what they needed most was normalcy.

In whatever form that took.

Normalcy, for them, she was quickly realizing, looked a lot like a Relationship.

It was something they were both ignoring. _For now._

Marinette had a sneaking suspicion her kitten was just biding his time – after all, he _was_ used to following her lead.

It was a terrifying thought.

But like the two, well-worn valentines that lay on her desk at home, it was a problem for another time.

For now, she was late to lunch.


	16. Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Sixteen: Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

_Seven months earlier..._

“W-where would you rather be right n-now?”

Adrien’s fingers were hot, a bad, bad sign, as he rubbed his hands up and down Marinette’s bare arms.

 _Ladybug’s_ bare arms.

It said a lot for their current predicament that he couldn’t work up a proper panic about _that_ revelation.  As it was, neither of them may be around long enough for it to make any difference.

“A b-beach.” Marinette chattered, her nose pressed to his chest. “Wa-arm.”

He laughed.  It echoed back, sharp and shallow in their icy tomb.

“Hot s-sand, cool waves?”

She shook her head.

“No cool.”

“R-right,” He said, fighting back body-wracking shivers.  He felt tears pooling in his eyes, freezing on his cheeks before he could wipe them away. “I guess ma-argaritas are out. H-hot t-to-ddies?”

“T-the hottest-t.”

Adrien cast a pleading look towards Plagg who was frantically working on his last piece of camembert.  Tikki was out of commission, huddled inside Marinette’s shirt, near lifeless.

 _This sucks. This sucks. This sucks_.

“Cha-at,” Marinette croaked.  “Adri–e-en.”

He hugged his lady closer, rubbed her arms harder.

“We’re ok-kay. We’re _okay_.” He said, willing his voice steady.

 _Come on, Plagg_.   **_Come_ _on_ _, Plagg_.**

Marinette’s grip around him was loose, her weight against him heavy.

“Stay with me, Marinette. _Stay with me_.”

He could tell she wasn’t going to last much longer.

“You,” She murmured.  “S-surprised?”

Adrien felt like laughing and crying and screaming all at once.  He settled for hugging her tighter, kissing the frozen hairs on her frozen head. “ _No_.”

“M-neither,” She said, before slumping against him completely.

Now he really _would_ scream.

Plagg was ready.

“Not today, bug.” Adrien said, hoisting her into his arms and calling for his transformation.

“ _CATACLYSM!_ ”


	17. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Seventeen: Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short, connected drabbles about the best friends that ever best friended for Adrinette April 2019.

Marinette _hated_ turning people down.

She hated the way their faces went from cautiously hopeful to crestfallen in a matter of words.  She hated the way their whole spirit seemed to collapse in on them. She hated the tremulous smile as they stammered _thank you_ and the unspoken _for breaking my heart_ shining in their suddenly too bright eyes.

 

_“I’m sorry, Martin.”_

_“O-okay. That’s… That’s definitely okay. T-thanks anyway.”_

 

“Argh!”

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Adrien said, not at all comforting and looking a horrible approximation of sorry.  He shifted awkwardly on the couch to follow her frantic pacing. “But I don’t know how much comfort I can be.”

Well, at least he was honest.

Coming here to rant about turning down her sweet, naive, completely in-over-his-head coworker and the ensuing awkwardness was probably not her brightest idea.  But really, who _else_ was she supposed to commiserate with?

Alya was eight hours behind and lacked the context to understand.

It was her kitty or nothing.

“Shut up,” Marinette huffed, plopping onto the couch just this side of his cushion.  “I need a hug.”

“ _That_ I can do,” He said, pulling her into his side.  She relaxed into him, letting her head fall on his shoulder and ignoring the way his head fell down to rest on hers.

“This part sucks.”

He rubbed her arm absently.  “I know, bug.”

“I _know_ you know.”

A choking sound, followed by quick, frantic coughs that dislodged her from him was her reward. 

She decided his mortified moue of betrayal was worth it.

 _“Marinette,_ ” He sputtered, red faced and horror-struck.

She laughed, giddy and long,

better already.


	18. In the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Eighteen: In the Rain

“ _Seriously?_ ” Adrien’s incredulity rang clear across the apartment.  Marinette bit her lip, smiling, as she watched the microwave countdown their latest bag of popcorn. “Marinette, they’re doing it _again_.”

She poked her head into the living room.

“Another kiss in the rain?”

“Every time. _Every time_.” He scowled, pausing the movie.  “Why do movies think getting washed out like trash in a storm drain is _romantic_?”

“They probably don’t have someone with your creative vision.”

“I’m serious,” He said, rising from the couch to join her in the kitchen.  “It’s a cinematic epidemic.”

She laughed.  “You’re such a cat.”

“It’s cold and wet.  How is that cute?”

“It’s dramatic!”

“No,” He said, leaning onto the counter to watch her.  “It’s _stupid_.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “ _Okay_.”

“Why do I feel like I haven’t won?”

The microwave beeped and she pulled the bag out, careful not to burn her hands.

She glanced over her shoulder to see his face pulled up into a petulant pout.  “Bowl please.”

He handed it over.

“I’m not wrong about this.”

“I don’t know, Chaton.” She hummed, pouring the popcorn.  “I happen to think rain is plenty romantic.”

Adrien moved closer and snuck a piece.  “Oh really?”

“Of course,” Marinette hesitated before passing the bowl to her partner and shooting him an embarrassed smile.  “I fell in love with _you_ in the rain.”

His eyes widened, his smug smile falling with his jaw.

“W-what?”

She shrugged, fighting to keep her face neutral and _not red_.

She failed, rather spectacularly, instead settling for an _almost_ easy shrug.

“Food for thought?”

And before she could embarrass either of them any further, Marinette grabbed a handful of popcorn and retreated to the living room, leaving a broken Adrien in her wake.


	19. Akumatized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Nineteen: Akumatized

“ _No, no, no!_ ” She hissed in frustration, sucking at the pooling droplet of blood on her index finger.  “Why won’t you just _sit_?”

Marinette glared at her half-finished embroidery project and wished the whole thing to the trash.

It seemed like such a good idea at the time.  Something she could do for Adrien. She had discovered the worn Valentine tucked into the pages of the scrapbook of superhero memories she’d gifted him.  He’d been showering at the time, unaware of her shameless snooping, but the image of the well-loved card stuck with her long after her blush died down.

 _Just friends_ indeed.

They were really bad at this.

She tugged at another loose stitch on her hoop and sighed.

Really, _really_ bad at this.

The clumsy half-formed words of her fourteen-year old self stared up at her from her just as clumsy embroidery, mocking her.

 _Why_ she thought this was a good idea was beyond her– needlepoint had never been Marinette’s strong suit.

But call it sappy, old-fashioned, or a sleepless pinterest board sleep-wrecked frenzy, for better or worse she had taken the idea, their old, old valentines, and her rusty embroidery skills and run with them.

And she’d be damned (or akumatized) if she let a few pinpricks get in her way.


	20. Hamster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty: Hamster

It was a night for celebrating.

Applications were submitted, begrudging parental permission had been obtained, and Adrien had nothing left to do but wait.

And drink.  Marinette was very clear on that point.

“To my partner, the future university student!”

“To _my_ partner,” he returned, “this future university student’s coffee supplier!”

They clinked champagne flutes, giggly and bubbly and clumsy in their happiness.  Marinette’s smile was large, her eyes a little glassy, as she fell into his side with a happy sigh.

“You know, minou.  I used to have my whole life planned out with you.”

The sudden confession shouldn’t have sobered him as quickly as it did.  Three bottles of champagne between the two of them shouldn’t have been so quickly undone.

“W-what?”

“Before.” She hummed, eyes closed.  “We were going to have three kids. Three kids and a hamster.”

Adrien laughed, chest tight. 

“A hamster?” He said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her in close.

She scowled, pinching his side. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not, bug.  I’m really not.” 

A future she talked about in the past tense was nothing to laugh at.  Not when he loved this woman so much he felt like crying.

“Sounded like it,” She grumbled into his shoulder.  “ _Felt_ like it too.”

“I would never laugh at you.”

“Liar.” She opened her eyes to peek up at him.  “You laugh at me all the time.”

“No,” He said, softly, trembling hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  “I meant about– about _that_ kind of… stuff.”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Stuff?”

He couldn’t help it.  He leaned forward and kissed her nose, nearly missing it and catching just under her eyes instead.  She squealed and batted him away.

“Yeah, _stuff_.”  Adrien didn’t have a better word for it.  Or the ones he did were too Big for either of them right now.  “I was laughing because I wanted the same thing.”

Marinette’s look was skeptical at best.

“You wanted Emma, Louis, Hugo, and a hamster?”

Oh god, their future had _names_.

His heart felt like it was fighting its way up his throat. 

“I hadn’t gotten as far as the kids but you and me and our unnamed hamster son on a deserted island was my living dream.”

She was quiet then, thoughtful.  Adrien took the opportunity to tuck her back into his side, his thumb running anxious circles on her shoulder.  He wasn’t prepared, though he probably should have been, for her next question.

“Adrien?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your dream now?”

It should have been terrifying having this conversation again.  Not when their last one landed them in their current state of hiatus.  Instead, he could only feel warm. Warm and fizzy and a little bit drunk.

His head fell down to rest against hers and he smiled.

“Ask me again when we’re sober.”


	21. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Twenty-One: Nightmare

**> ^..^<**: My father wants you to come to dinner.

 **}(::){** : …

 **}(::){** : …

 **}(::){** : …

 **}(::){** : This is about the underwear isn’t it?  
  
**> ^..^<**: I’m so sorry.


	22. Aged Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 22: Aged Up

“Tikki.”

“Yes?”

“At what point am I too old to put posters of my crush on my wall?”

“Technically you’re never too old to do anything.  Why do you as– oh.”

Marinette didn’t meet her kwami’s gaze as she stared down at Gabriel’s newest ad. There were three images, two of which featured Adrien locked in a passionate embrace with another model. The third one, however, was just him.  Kiss bruised, lipstick stained, shirt open and artfully wrinkled. The picture of glorious dishevelment.

She worried her lip.

It’d been years since she’d wanted to pin one of his ads to the wall.  Pinning _him_ on the other hand… well.

 _Well_.

“It’s a lovely picture.” Tikki said.

Marinette peeked up at her kwami beneath her fringe, suspicious.  “Mhmm.”

“I’m sure Adrien would be flattered.” She continued. “After all, he’s your partner. It’s good to be supportive.”

“Right” She said, lips twitching. “ _Supportive_.”

Tikki blinked, eyes big and blue and guileless.

Marinette met her gaze, unflinching.

“You should put it near your sewing desk.” She said.

“The one in my bedroom?”

“Why not?” She shrugged. “You never know when you might need inspiration.”

Marinette snorted. “If I was any more _inspired_ I think I’d combust.”

Tikki’s easy smile finally gave way to the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Who said I was talking about you?”


	23. Fashion Show

**> ^..^<**: They’re all fine.

 **}(::){** : Adrien Agreste. You did not grow up in a fashion dynasty to tell a woman who asks for advice on her clothes that they’re all _fine_.

 **> ^..^<**: Ugh. Hold on.

 

Marinette scowled at her cell phone before tossing it back on the bed. Stupid man, with his stupid father, and his stupid _fine_.

It was _his_ fault they even needed to have this dinner in the first place.  The absolute least he could do was help her pick out an appropriate outfit.

Her phone rang and she let it go to voicemail just to spite him. _Fine_ , her ass.

Gabriel Agreste summons them to a formal scolding and his son expects her to look _fine_.

 

 **> ^..^<**: Pick up the damn phone.

 

Marinette raised her brow, matching his irritated frown with her own as he appeared on screen.

“Why so cheery?” She asked.

Adrien, as disheveled as a model could ever be, sighed. “I don’t really want to talk about clothes anymore.”

“Well I don’t want to go to this dinner but I’m sucking it up for you.  Just tell me, blue, green, or red?”

“I like the red.”

Marinette picked up the red jumpsuit and frowned.  “You don’t think it’s too Ladybug?”

“Fine,” He said. “Go with the blue.”

She shook her head.  “I wore that last time I saw your father.  I think I should wear the green.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Is there a reason I’m here?”

“Wow.” She said, stung. “No. There’s not. It’s _fine_. Bye.”

Marinette hung up and tossed her phone away, eyes prickling.  It rang several more times and she heard the tell-tale vibrations of a double-texting spree but she ignored it.

It’d been a rough day.

Her professor had ripped her designs to shreds in front of her classmates and she spent her lunch break crying in the bathroom.  Cleaning herself up from _that_ mess made her late to her internship on the day Gabriel Agreste had deigned to visit.  Her tardiness did not go unnoticed. A haughty look in her direction and a snide comment from one of the interns about low standards and sleeping with the boss’s son nearly sent her back into a fit of tears.  She didn’t give them the satisfaction, but really, at the end of this shittastic day all she really wanted was to talk to her best friend and she couldn’t even do _that_ right.

Tikki patted her hair.

“Maybe he was having a bad day too.”

“Then he should have said so.”

“Hmm.” She murmured, kindly saying and _not_ saying exactly what Marinette already knew.

 _She_ hadn’t told him it was a bad day either.

“You know Adrien loves you, Marinette.  He wouldn’t hurt you intentionally."

“I know, Tikki.” She sniffed.  That wasn’t really the point though was it?  “Just… let me be angry for a while.”

“Okay.”

She fell asleep to her kwami gently playing with her hair.  She woke to a blonde boy slipping through her window and into her bed, eyes tired, smile contrite.

“I’m sorry, my lady.”

Marinette shifted so her face rested in the crook of his neck and threw an arm across his stomach in a lazy sort of hug.

"Me too."


	24. Bridal Style

Adrien looked up from his book as Marinette stumbled through the front door.

“Oops,” She giggled, dropping her keys near but not on the side table. He watched as she struggled to bend down in her dress and heels before she gave up entirely and left them on the ground.

He smothered a grin as she collapsed onto the couch beside him.

“I take it the party went well?”

Marinette hummed, holding up her foot towards him and waving it.  He took the hint and started unlacing her heels.

“Mylene is over the moon.”

“And you, LB?”

She peeked an eye open, grinning. “On the rocks.”

He laughed. “I can see that.”

“Shh,” She said, kicking up her other foot. “You’re just bitter you weren’t invited.”

“A bachelorette party, by definition, excludes me.”

Marinette sighed in relief as he finished up with her second heel and leaned back against the couch, tucking both legs beneath her.

“You could have stripped. You have the abs for it.”

“I know.” He poked her side, smirking. “Don’t think I missed your new artwork.”

She batted his hand away. “Tikki’s idea. Sort of.”

“Maybe I’ll put on a show for you sometime.”

“ _Pfft_ ,” She said, too tipsy to be embarrassed but not drunk enough to pursue this line of conversation. “It was probably for the best you weren’t there anyways.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” She said, scowling as she fussed with the bobby pins in her hair. “It would have made them worse.”

Adrien reached forward to help her.

“What happened?”

“Nothing new.” She huffed, turning away to give him easier access.  “Just the usual greek chorus about my love life.”

He grimaced.  “ _Ah_.”

“It’s just, how many times do they have to _ask_ ?”  Marinette slapped her hands to her cheeks.  “Oh, Marinette!  When are you two going to get together?  When will you put him out of his misery? Are you _ever_ gonna walk down the aisle?”

The last word ended with a crack and too late Adrien realized she was upset.  He stopped removing the pins from her hair and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her back against his chest.

“Hey,” He murmured into her temple as she cried.  “Shhh, no.”

“Do I make you miserable, Chaton?”

He laughed, voice weak.  “Not even a little.”

Marinette sniffed, rotating so she could meet his gaze.

“And you don’t hate me?”

“You _know_ the answer to that.”

She nodded as if to say she _did_ but needed to hear it all the same.  The tension left her shoulders and she relaxed into his embrace.

They lay there for several minutes, undisturbed.  Adrien’s thumb ran circles over her hip in a soothing, grounding gesture.

“We weren’t ready.” Marinette said, finally, softly.

“I know,” He said. “Bug, none of this is coming from me, you know that right?  They’re not us.”

“I just don’t want us to…” She trailed off, quiet, but he heard her all the same.

Adrien hugged her tighter.

“We won’t.”


	25. Protect

“Marinette!” He cried out, frantic, helpless as the panicking horde of bodies swept her up and away from him.  

She was being reckless.  She was being stupid. It was only a moment, it _took_ only a moment, and she was gone. The very crowd she’d been trying to lead out of the ruined concert hall was going to trample her.

“ _Marinette!_ ”

Damn this crowd.  Damn their panic. Damn Hawkmoth for creating an anxious, unstable city.

Adrien was helpless, unable to transform in the chaos.  Elbows in sides and shoes on ankles, breath on neck and screams in ears– all around him was a cacophony of terror.

It was everything he could do to stay upright in the crowd’s wake.  Terror gripped his throat as his partner’s name was lost to the countless screams of others.

 _Please be okay. Please be okay_.

They spilled out of one of the exits like so many ants from a hill.  As confused and frightened concert goers scattered to the wind, Adrien continued his frantic search.  His eyes roved over every prostrate figure with fear only for selfish, selfish relief to take hold as he realized, no, _they_ weren’t _her_.

It was awful and horrible as was the scene, but he couldn’t separate the feeling from himself even if he wanted to.  The injured and otherwise… they would fix this. _She_ would fix this.

She just needed to be okay to do it.

It was nearly fifteen minutes before Tikki found him.

“Ambulance–” She squeaked and he was gone.

Adrien found her wrapped up in a blanket, bruised and scratched and beautifully _alive_.

“Marinette,” He choked, tripping over himself as he pushed past the waiting EMTs only to come up short.  Trembling hands reached forward to cup her cheeks only to fall back.

Marinette, _Marinette_ , managed a shaky smile.

“It’s okay, minou. I won’t break.”

No, she wouldn’t.  So he did.

Nearly collapsing on top of her, his arms snaked tight around her shoulders, crushing her small, so small frame to his own as angry, relieving tears fell into her hair.

“Don’t do that.  Don’t _do_ that.” He scolded, pressing frantic kisses to her cheeks, her temple, her eyes.

“I’m here,” She said into his collar, clutching him back.  “I’m here.”


	26. Civilian Heroes

He was angry with her.

She wasn’t surprised.  It took Adrien nearly an hour to calm down enough to let her go and longer still for him to be convinced she wasn’t about to collapse from unseen injuries.

Miraculous Ladybug notwithstanding, he insisted on spending the night on her couch.

“Just in case,” He said, pulling blankets from her hall closet without so much as asking.

Marinette bit back her irritation over the whole ordeal.  It’s not like _he_ didn’t throw himself in front of danger left and right, in _and_ out of the suit.

It was an old argument between them, one without any real solution.

“I can’t lose you,” They’d whisper, cry, scream, sigh.

It didn’t matter.

Maybe they weren’t always meant to be heroes, but they grew into it all the same. Asking either of them to stop was like asking them to cut out their soul.

“Maybe one day,” She murmured when Adrien finally came back around.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, unconvinced.

“Yeah. Maybe one day.”


	27. Agreste & Dupain-Cheng

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 27: Marinette and the Agrestes  
> Day 28: Adrien Dupain-Cheng

She didn’t know what she expected.

No, that wasn’t entirely true.

The awkward silence, clinking of silverware against white plates, echoing throughout the too big dining room was _exactly_ what she expected.  Marinette just thought (dreaded) that it would be punctuated with _some_ conversation.

Aside from his initial greeting and cold inspection of her dress, Gabriel had said nothing.  And Adrien, damn him, didn’t seem any more eager to break the silence.

She glared at him from across the table.

_Say something._

Adrien shrugged.

_What’s the point?_

It was a miserable affair all around.

When someone came by to collect their empty plates Marinette hoped their miserable evening was coming to an end.

Then Gabriel cleared his throat and she knew the worst was just beginning.

Even now, hours later, as she slumped down in her bathtub, letting the water come up to her nose, she could still see her boss’s cold, expressionless face as he lectured them on things like _propriety_ and _decency_ and _discretion_.

“If this _relationship_ if going to continue,” He said, blatantly ignoring the fact that both she and Adrien were adults and capable of making their own decisions. “Then keep your… romping… _out_ of the press.”

The evening quickly devolved from there.

Several heated words, a not-so-vague threat against her career, and a dramatic exit later left her trailing after her raging partner as he stormed down the cobbled streets.

“Absolutely ridiculous,” He said.

Marinette, despite herself, smiled. “I think your Bourgeois is showing.”

Adrien’s look was scathing.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

She shrugged, taking his arm and pulling him to slow down and walk with her.

“Because it’s what I’ve come to expect from your father.” She squeezed.  “You know what he said wasn’t true right?”

He laughed, a hollow, angry thing.  “Which part?”

“All of it,” She said.  “But mostly about you being a disappointment.”

“I _am_ a disappointment.  To him at least.” He shook his head. “ _Not behavior fit for an Agreste_. Hah.”

“You _are_ an Agreste,” Marinette said, stopping him. She met his eyes with a steely determination that made him melt in spite of everything. “Whatever you do is therefore Agreste behavior.  Your father isn’t the first and he won’t be the last.”

“I guess,” Adrien said, but he was smiling now.  “Although maybe he _will_ be.  Do you think your parents would adopt me?”

She laughed. “In a heartbeat.”

“Adrien Dupain-Cheng has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

His expression was lighter, eyes soft as he gazed down at her.  Marinette’s heart, the traitorous thing, felt like it was trying to leap from her chest to his.

It’s probably why she said what she did next.

Marinette blew out an agitated stream of bubbles into the bath, skin heating more from memory than from the steaming water around her.

 _Stupid. Stupid_.

They were in dangerous territory now.

But that didn’t stop her from saying, grin on hand, as she turned away to continue walking down the street.

“I don’t know.  I’ve always been partial to Marinette Agreste, myself.”


	28. Bien Joue

_Six months and twenty-two days earlier..._  


Her balcony seemed as good a place as any to break their hearts.

Marinette watched, chin resting on her arms on her legs, as Adrien fidgeted with his good luck charm.  _Her_ good luck charm.

A lot of good _that_ did them.

“So…” He said.

“So…” She repeated.

Adrien laughed, awkward, and ran his hand over his neck.

“I know I said I wanted to talk but now that we’re here I don’t really know how.”

Marinette sighed, her head slumping forward so her arms covered her red, red face.  God, how she really, _really_ didn’t want to have this conversation.

_And yet._

Adrien’s confession all those months ago hung between them.

_“She’s lucky.  Whoever she is.”_

_“She’s made of luck,”_ He’d said. _“But if she wasn’t… if there wasn’t… I need you to know, Marinette.  It would be you.”_

It would be her.

It _was_ her.

And against all akumas and odds it had been him too.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, voice low in the lantern lights.

“I… I don’t know.”

What _was_ she thinking?

She was thinking about her internship and school starting up in a couple weeks. She was thinking about finalizing the lease on her new apartment and Alya studying abroad. She was thinking about her friend, Adrien, and her crush, also Adrien.

She was thinking about akumas and Chat Noir and dying.

“I think… I think it’s too much.”

Too much, too soon, too now.

Adrien grimaced, but nodded all the same.

“Everything is changing.” He murmured. “I’m scared of us changing too.”

She met his eyes, smiled a half smile. “Yeah.”

He returned it, in his own way.

“If I have to lose anything...” He started, stopped. “I know I couldn’t stand losing you.”

Marinette took a deep breath, a sad sort of certainty settling over her.

“Me too.”

They sat there quietly then.  The decision hanging over them like a curtain of stars.  His eyes were wet as she was sure her own were, but they were resolved nonetheless.

“So…” She said.

“So…” He repeated.

“Friends?”

Marinette held out her fist, smile soft.

“Yeah, Bug.” Adrien laughed, voice low to hide its shakiness, returning the gesture.

“Friends.”


	29. Us Against the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for sticking with me through this story. It's become a pet favorite of mine and I've loved every second of working on it. It grew from a daily exercise to something I'm incredibly proud of. Endings are hard but I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I have.

It came down to miscommunication, a curious cat, and a spoiled surprise.

Marinette was running late – not so unusual with the final days of her internship drawing near.  She was supposed to be meeting Adrien at her apartment but a last minute assignment from her supervisor had her rethinking that plan.  If they wanted to catch their movie they would probably be better off meeting at the theater.

She was in the middle of texting him as much when she unlocked her door only to find Adrien standing, transfixed, in the middle of her living room.

“Hey, I was just about to message you. We should probably head out now if–” Marinette’s eyes caught on the embroidery hoop in his hands and froze.  “Oh.”

“Marinette,” He said, voice thick and low.  “What’s this?”

Slowly she moved towards him, her clumsy needlepoint coming into view.  A pang of fond irritation hit her as she realized he’d gone rummaging through her sewing room. 

 _Ridiculous cat._ She _really_ should have hidden it better.

Marinette sighed. “A gift in-progress.”

“I love it.” He murmured.

She blushed. “They’re not done yet,”

“I don’t care,” He said, clutching the half-finished needlepoint to his chest. “It’s perfect.”

Marinette laughed.  “They’re far from perfect, Chaton.”

He shook his head. “You made them. They’re perfect.”

“Okay.”

Adrien’s thumb brushed over their decades old confession.  “I can’t believe you did this.”

“I thought you might want something more… permanent.” She avoided his gaze, watched him trace her heart. “You know, less delicate than paper.”

There was a moment, like a blanket hanging over them, warm and close.  Adrien carefully set aside the needlepoint and reached for her hand.

“I do,” He said, soft.  His fingers squeezed hers.

Marinette looked up, blue meeting green meeting truth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” He said.  “Permanent sounds good.”

They hesitated, hands in hands, as past and present and future stretched out between them and in all directions until they were nearly full with it.

Adrien broke first.  Dropping her hands only to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing just beneath her eyes like a mask.

“Marinette,” He whispered, voice hoarse. “Can – can I love you now?”

She laughed, giddy and breathless and heartsick, tears pricking at her eyes.  “You never stopped, silly.”

“No,” He said, pulling her closer, finally, _finally_.  “I never did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.


End file.
